The Vampire Prince
by Draco volans
Summary: Thirty-six years ago the boy-who-lived disappeared from the Dursley's steep. When he reappears, few expect him to still look like a 11 year old. Fewer still expect him to be the prince of vampires. Xover with Vampire Bund. dark. independent. harry. creature. SLASH
1. Prologue

**The Vampire Prince**

_Disclaimer:_

_ Dance in the Vampire Bund and Harry Potter are the property of their respective trademark holders. No money is made by the author for this work of fiction._

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><p><strong>PROLOGUE<strong>

_Halloween, 1981_

_Privet Drive, Surrey_

The streets were empty, conversations having long faded away. If hushed whispers of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named falling to Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, fell from wizarding lips, it did not happen in this one particular street. For Privet Drive had been well shot of its magical quota for the night already.

The most hum-given wizard of recent times, Albus Dumbledore, had already delivered his cargo for the evening. One Harry James Potter, whom even now in the pre-dawn calm, that narrow window where all things living, even the wind, fell hushed. Lay still in his bundle of blankets upon the Number Four steep. This would be the scene onto which in the space of two odd hours, Petunia Dursley would exclaim aloud. At least thus would have been the case, if not for the conspicuous arrival of another of 'their kind' as Mr Dursley would define, to the sleeping suburb.

A young girl, If a girl was really all she were, or for indeed, if one might consider, if she was even young at all, for the girl wore the most outlandish apparel. Garbed in a Victorian dress of a blue so dark it was almost black. Midnight leather boots that reached to knobby knees. Dark velvet hair-ties that kept inappropriately long blonde hair into two bundles, and no shortage of frilly, white, lace. The girl could indeed give the earlier interlopers a run for their money.

One would naturally wonder why one, apparently not a day over twelve, dressed as a 'freak', would be out in the streets so late, even upon Halloween. However, such council was best kept close to ones breast, as this particular femme was not often obliging with her thoughts and drives, thereby explaining why she was here alone. As to her purpose for being there at all, one needn't wonder further as the girl made a slow line towards Number Four.

Despite the choice in heels, no sound was made by her feet as she stepped onto the Dursley porch. Orb-like, crimson eyes looking down upon the sleeping baby.

"Harry Potter, huh," the girl said with none of the usual stilt or stutter that you could expect to find in prepubescent's voice.

"Well, you don't look that special." The girl tilted her head contemplatively, eyes bright and sharp despite the early hour. In a motion, she bent and lifted up the baby. Her poise in retrieving the child was countered by the onset of gravity, young Harry starting to slip through the blankets to the ground.

"Whoa." With inhuman speed, she rearranged the grip. Secure once more, young Harry was nonetheless jostled alert, face beginning to ball up.

"Shhh...there there. Go back to sleep." The child made a face of discontent, but was nevertheless, sleeping like the dead after a moment or two. The red-eyed girl shrugged unconcerned.

"Humans," she muttered, stepping off the porch and onto the street. She glanced at the sky. It would begin to brighten soon. Best to hurry.

Walking to the curb, she turned to face the Dursley's.

"Say goodbye, Harry. I doubt you'll see this place again," the girl said more to herself than to Harry.

"I expect they'll work out you were taken soon enough," she murmured.

"Perhaps sooner than you think."

The girl spun on the spot, posture tense. A man stood alone in the centre of the road. Dressed in a grey-white business suit, he was in his apparent thirties, blonde hair meticulously parted, skin pale, though not unattractively so. A eyepatch rested over one eye.

"Rozenmann," the girl breathed coolly, unconsciously shifting her bundle closer. The man gave a thin smile.

"A pleasure to see you again, Princess Mina."

"That is your highness, Princess Tepes to you, my lord," the girl snarled, baring her teeth. They were unnaturally white, her canines long and sharp. Rozenmann gave a mocking bow in reply.

"Do forgive me your highness. I speak only with the familiarity one would expect to the one whom would be thy bride."

"You presume beyond your stead, Rozenmann," she said, reigning in her sneer, but lacking nothing in contempt.

"And you, your highness, should not question your future." Although the man's expression remained static, his humour raised a notch. "I predicted your arrival here did I not."

The princess sneered.

"Yes, how admirable of you. A child all of the magical world would desire for one reason or another, and you guessed my intent. How profound."

The amusement in the man's eyes dimmed.

"Though perhaps less profound and more that you and your stooges, Li and Ivanovic, are watching me like a prize horse!"

Rozenmann closed his eyes, enjoying himself.

"Whilst I cannot speak for my fellow lords, if there was any such surveillance it would naturally be for your protection. Although, I admit freely that I look forward to seeing you bridled."

"Eugh! You disgust me!"

The princess turned her back on him, walking off, loathing for the man practically radiating off her. Rozenmann, left standing in the road, glared at her, opening his mouth, revealing for the first time his own fangs.

"What do you hope to achieve Princess!" he called after her. "In taking this boy, this wizard."

Mina paused in her motion. She looked down at the sleeping bundle in her arms. Her hand brushed past the boy's hair, to better see his face. For the first time she witnessed the lightning bolt shaped scar that had been secreted away behind raven locks. Resolved she turned to face the man.

"This boy will be a hero to the wizards Rozenmann. Books will be written about him, every child will know his name."

The man scoffed. "There is no guarantee of that."

"Oh yes there is, I will make it thus!" the girl declared, eyes blazing.

"He will be venerated to the highest levels. He will be their saviour, their champion, their 'chosen' one. They shall love him... but he shall not love them."

The princess looked down at the sleeping boy.

"He shall be raised by vampires. And when the time comes, and they call for their hero, it shall not be upon our hearts that the dagger drops."

The girl stared fixedly at the man, head held high, challenging him to speak. Rozenmann for his part, wore a disgruntled expression. He tilted his eye towards the sky. It was starting to turn pink. Time was short. Looking back he saw the princess patiently watching a stretch limousine that was moving up the drive towards them.

"You play a dangerous game, your highness," Rozenmann said in warning.

The vampiress, nodding to a woman with long dark hair stepping out of the limo, turned back to face the man.

"So do you my dear lord. Especially with sunrise so near. You'd best hurry about your business."

The dark haired woman smirked, as the princess made it evident the man was not invited to leave with them behind the shelter of their tinted windows.

Rozenmann's eye twitched in irritation, but after a pause turned, walking off in stoic silence. Both woman were content to ignore his departure.

"Is this him?" the black haired woman enquired, as they entered into the limosine passenger compartment, a driver who looked probably more suited to a rock concert, stepping out to close the door for them.

"Yes, Vera. This is Harry Potter. Though I expect he'll need a new name."

"Such as?"

"I see nothing wrong with Harry Tepes."

The driver shut the door, sealing off sight and sound of the inhabitants within. With a chortled roar, the car started moving down the street out of Privet Drive. The young saviour would not be seen again for more than thirty years.

**END CHAPTER**

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><p>AN: As if I didn't have enough work to keep me busy already. I watched the series 'Dance in the Vampire Bund' a couple weeks ago. It's a pretty short series, only 12 episodes, and not one for the anime novice either. Plenty of blood, guts, breasts defying gravity, shota and slash-worthy protagonists. Naturally, a great idea for a HP crossover. Actually I believe this is the first for these two universes. No pressure. ;)<p>

As always please review, favourite and subscribe.

Constructive feedback always appreciated.

Edit: November 6th 2012 - Those dastardly commas.


	2. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer:_

_Dance in the Vampire Bund and Harry Potter are the property of their respective trademark holders. No money is made by the author for this work of fiction._

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 01<strong>

_London, 2017_

The sound of traffic and smell of car fumes filled the air, as London, one of the most populated and cosmopolitan cities in the world, set about the daily business bustle. Commuters, young and old, hurried about on errands, eager to be where they had to be, in a city that kept its own pace. It was amidst this streamlined anarchy that a man sat at rest.

Terraced outside a popular cafe, his tall and limber form was immediately obvious to any onlooker should they be so inclined. His posture noticeably straight, perfectly upright and aligned with the back of the chair. A china cup filled with aromatic tea sat in front of him, contents already emptied. A single piece of paper was held in one gloved hand, his one visible eye scanned the page with ease, the other being hidden by lengthy grey hair, the mane of which was tied back in the manner besetting a Victorian nobleman.

_World's Population To Exceed Eight Billion In Two Years_

_The recent United Nations Forum on Growth Statistics have released data ahead of the upcoming Leaders Summit, that the global population is set to rise above 8 billion within the next two years. The announcement calls into question the long term sustainability of existing resources, and the feasibility of a stricter international tariff system for human development plans. Although analysts predict that geopolitical tensions will make it unlikely for any headway to be made during the meeting of World Leaders in April, Mr. Valmarti, Secretary of the World Bank, was reported to state on Tuesday..._

A gloved hand moved across the surface of the piece of manilla paper. The surface rippled like water in the wind, and the text slide sideways, replaced by another headline.

_MarqDyne Reports Profits Up £3 Billion. _

_The software super-giant announced on their website today that quarterly profits were up £3.3Bn, following the recent friendly takeover of rival SmartPaper(R) manufacturer, Biblioblot. The one to one trading of shares surprised market investors who predicted a hostile takeover in the works, following last year's highly publicised court battle over copyright ownership on the new VioletDrive players. Ms Sandra Atkinson, former President of Biblioblot has retained executive status, joining as the new Vice-President of Development. The merger is expected to accelerate devel-_

The hand made another motion over the sheet.

_Prime Minister in Hot Water!_

_British Labour leader, David Wilde, widely referred to as the 'Playboy PM', is facing further scrutiny, this time over alleged use of electoral funds to hack the electronic correspondence of major political opponents. A spokesman for the forty-nine year old has referred to the allegations as 'hogwash', and 'malicious rumours' started by the opposition over proposed taxing hikes for housing developments. Criticism over the mounting national debt-_

Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz.

The piece of paper was set down on the table, and a cell phone was removed from an inner-jacket pocket of what was a visibly expensive, if perhaps antiquated, black business suit.

"This is Wolf," the man said in a clear, albeit distinctly European voice. Posture just as poised whilst listening, after several seconds the phone was snapped shut, without another word from him. As he stood up, a man and a woman came to attention. The woman was in a blue blouse and skirt, seated two tables to the back and right of Wolf. She had blonde hair pulled into a tight bun, one chopstick driven through to hold it in place. The man, a heavy-set type with a shaved head and dressed in brown blazer, learnt against a wall diagonally across the street.

Wolf stepped away from the table without a backwards glance, leaving it to the woman following him, for indeed she was following him, to collect the piece of paper he had left on the table and stow it away in her jacket. Across the street the man in brown watched as a black Bentley pulled up along the pavement outside the cafe, in a perfectly timed maneuver. The woman hurriedly stepped forward to open the back door for Wolf, closing it behind him with a snap. She glanced up as she stepped back from the car rolling out into traffic, catching eye contact with the man leaning against the wall.

"Handover complete. Standing down," the woman said quietly, such that no one, even right beside her, could have hoped to have heard over the traffic. The man apparently did though, as he nodded, turning and walking away into off-cutting alley, where a commercial delivery van was parked.

"Copy," the man said, climbing into the front seat.

He moved a hand up and adjusted the rear mirror to look in the back. The man caught sight of himself reflected on another surface. His own face was mirrored off of highly polished eye goggles that looked advanced enough to have its own social network account. Urban grey combat fatigues hid every inch of the man in goggles. Not as single patch of skin was exposed to the outside world, nor indeed was it, on the four other men in identical getup in the back of the van.

"Escort Unit 3, standing down."

* * *

><p>Sir Wolf watched the endless stream of traffic, human and mechanical alike, blur past as the black Bentley Continental, sped through the busy London Streets.<p>

"We'll be in Whitehall in three minutes, Sir," the man in the front passenger seat alerted.

Wolf gave no reply, other than a shallow inclination of his head. Like the driver, whom was one of his own men and not one added on for today, he maintained a professional silence. The additional security, although unnecessary, was nonetheless expected. His mission, although redundant and unlikely to bear fruit, was nonetheless highly sensitive. His death would not be readily forgiven.

As one who had reported directly to the head of House Tepes through three generations of leaders, Wolf was well used to having a permanent cadre of warriors within his sight. Indeed as head of the Earth Clan, the elite guard and knights of the vampire monarchy, he had commanded thousands. However even by his standards, the forces being put into place today were impressive.

It had been a long time coming, they had been patiently preparing for decades, but the great masquerade was coming to an end. The sun would rise on a very different world tomorrow, and no self-aggrandising wizards would stop them. The gray-haired man allowed himself a fraction of a rare smile. The dawn was coming.

Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz.

The prim man removed his phone.

"This is Wolf. ...How may I serve, your highness."

Wolf's face remained stoically fixed, quite unlike the freshly assigned bodyguard in the passenger seat, who's eyes grew comically wide. The man mouthed 'Your highness' to the man at the wheel. The driver's expression remained fixed, although sat perhaps slightly more upright in his seat.

"...We shall be there shortly. ...Yes. Though I again stress my doubt to any favourable outcome from this eleventh hour diplomacy. ... ... I understand. ...It shall be done, your highness."

Beep.

Wolf slipped the phone back into his inner-jacket pocket, expression blank. The remainder of journey proceeded in silence. Minutes later the car pulled up to a stop along the curb. Wolf climbed out alone and the car sped off, the second tail car, following after the first. Although for all intents and purposes he seemed quite alone, this was anything but true. There were at least a dozen people watching him from the nearby windows and concealed nooks. Wolf could smell them. Like him, they were servants of House Tepes. Although the same could likely be said for many of the others walking nearby simply going about their day. In one fashion or another, they 'all' served the house. Most just never knew who they were aiding.

Ignoring the shabby-looking offices, pub, and an overflowing skip, Wolf made a line toward a dilapidated old red telephone box in front of a heavily graffitied wall. The man passed through the phone box door, and shut himself inside.

"How antiquated," Wolf murmured, picking up the receiver and expertly dialling the numbers without pause.

6-2-4-4-2

M-A-G-I-C

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><p>Twenty-three year old, Browden Carmichael stifled a yawn as yet another visitor was waved through. It was a dull job, but someone had to do it. At least that's what his mother kept on telling him. Browden had dreamed to get into the elite Auror corps, but hadn't had the correct OWLS to get in right out of Hogwarts, so had started doing part time jobs in the ministry with the regular law enforcement wizards. That was five, or was it six, years ago now.<p>

His last application failure two months ago, and since then he had been stuck holding down the security desk in the ministry atrium. God it was boring. The young man longed for the excitement of the Aurors. Of course they weren't as cool as being in the Unspeakables and Department of Mysteries, but then, you don't apply to the Unspeakables. It was strictly invitation only.

Browden barely glanced up at the tall aristocratic man stepping up to the desk. All visitors were required to report to the security desk upon arrival, thus he had a steady stream of people who were just as exuberant to leave his presence, as he was at bidding them a good day. Weighing someone's wand was interesting the first few times you did it, but regrettably, the novelty wore itself thin after about half a day of checking for malicious spells. Unfortunately Unforgiveable spell signatures came few and far between, meaning never. It was far to easy to erase one's spell history. The most interesting he ever had was a scratching hex and the occasional 'adult' charm. Boredom thy name is Browden.

"Please present your wand for inspection," he instructed lifelessly to the man.

"I have none," A grim voice replied.

'_Maybe I'll make that Minestrone again for tea tonight. It turned ou-_'

"What!" Browden said, his young face jerking upright, jarred from his thoughts as the stranger's words were processed.

"Why don't you have a wand? It's an offense to refuse to submit a wand for weighing," Browden said startled. The stranger, now that he looked at him, was sort of intimidating. Arrow-straight back, grey aristocratic hair and features, a stern face, expensive clothes. He looked like someone you didn't want to get on the bad side of.

"I have no wand, as I am no wizard." The man gave the security officer a disapproving look. Scratch that earlier thought, there was no 'sort of' intimidation when it came to this guy.

"Um...name and purpose of visit."

The stranger held up a badge spat from the visitor entrance.

"Sir Wolfgang Regendorf," the young man read. "Meeting with Minister for Magic." Browden paled. If this man had a meeting with the minister, then if he wasn't careful he could still be on this desk when his grandchildren had grandchildren. The Minister was not known for being gracious to underlings.

"Um. Right. I just need to um..."

The man narrowed his eyes as Browden held up the gold scanning rod.

"Scan you...Procedure. Yeah."

'_Just scan him and let him leave_' the more rational part of Browden's brain commanded, and his body hurried obeyed. Waving the golden scanning rod, and looking down at the piece of parchment that would write out the results. Browden's stomach drained as he saw the result. According to this, the man was quite a ways older than he looked, and much more importantly, a werewolf.

"Is there a problem?" Sir Wolf's commanding voice asked, if 'ask' is the generous way to describe the tone.

"Um ...no sir. Go on ahead." Browden shifted uncomfortably as the man starred at him for several moments, before walking off.

'_I better report this._'

* * *

><p>"And you're sure of this?" the Undersecretary for the Minister for Magic enquired.<p>

"Yes, Sir," the man, supervisor Trenchbull from the day-shift security office, reported back through the two-way mirror.

"The testing equipment is highly sensitive to this sort of thing. This ...person, Regendorf, is most definitely a werewolf."

"Then you did the correct thing in bringing this to my attention before the Minister went into a meeting with a potentially dangerous individual. Send a ... ministry representative, up to my office please."

"Right away, Undersecretary," Trenchbull replied. The chief aide to the Minister for Magic nodded and snapped shut the pocket mirror and handed it back to his assistant.

"Is Regendorf outside?"

"Waiting outside the Minister's office, Sir."

"I'll meet him. Give me a minute, than have him brought in."

"Yes, Mr Weasley," the assistant gushed, retreating from the office.

'_Werewolves with appointments with the Minister for Magic. What next, dragons in the quidditch cup?' _The man mused snorting at the thought._ 'The minister would not thank me, if such an appointment was kept._'

Percy Weasley, returned to his seat, sitting down heavily.

He had done well for himself. Forty years old and he was already Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic. It had taken his predecessors twice as long to ever grace this office, and he had done it by age forty. The youngest Undersecretary in more than a century. All his hard work was paying off. He had done it even coming from his family. Despite his family rather, he should say. They refused to acknowledge his soaring successes. Well good riddance as far as he was concerned. The less he had to do with them the better.

The wizard's musing was interrupted by a knock on his door. His assistant poked his head through.

"Mr Regendorf, Undersecretary."

"Send him in," Percy said, straightening in his chair.

The assistant nodded and retreated, moments later a figure stepped through. Percy suppressed a smirk.

'_So, not such a mangy beast after all,_' he thought, eyeing the well stitched suit clad on the tall, aristocratic looking man.

"Mr Regendorf, please take a seat."

"Sir Regendorf, and I am quite comfortable standing."

"Of course, my apologies," Percy said quirking an eye, not apologetic in the least.

"My appointment was with the Minister for Magic," Wolf stated matter-of-factly, initiating their encounter.

"Yes, however I'm afraid Minister Umbridge is indisposed and could not possibly meet with you," Percy said with a sweet smile he had honed to an art, courtesy of his boss. "But I'm happy to see you in her stead." The man, Regendorf, gave him an unimpressed look.

"No doubt. I'm delighted, you could accommodate me in your busy schedule," the man said with a closed expression.

"Of course. Though I am curious as to who you are. For I'm afraid I do not know of you, and I tend to know all the Minister's appointments," Percy probed, sycophant-like.

"It would be curious if you did know who I was. The minister has never spoken to me before. But money is access, and those I represent have invested quite an amount. An appointment with the Minister was simple to arrange. Or so it would seem."

"And who do you represent?" Percy said, with a frown.

"House Tepes."

"I do not know that name," Percy said still frowning, crossing his arms. The werewolf gave a slight smirk in return, moving to face the large window that looked out onto the Ministry atrium.

"Hmph. That does not surprise me. Though from this, I gather your ministry's not been receiving our diplomatic envoys. You have my pity."

"Diplomatic env- Who exactly do you think you are?" Percy said standing up, ears turning red.

"I have given my name, wizard. Sir Wolfgang Regendorf. And I am an envoy of the ancient and noble House of Tepes. You would do well to convey me to the Minister for Magic."

"Now see here! I don't care who you are, no one gets to see the Minister, least of all someone... with your affliction," Percy announced.

"Affliction," Wolf said dryly, glancing over his shoulder. "Indeed."

"And you are confident the Minister will not see me today?" The werewolf queried, turning to face the politician.

"Of that, Sir! You can rest assured," the red-headed undersecretary affirmed. Percy dug his hand into his robe pocket and waved it in the vague direction of the doors to his office. They sprung apart, and two men stepped in.

"I'm afraid that is all the time I have to spare, Mr Regendorf," Percy intoned. Expecting the werewolf to be put out, the wizard was surprised when his guest gave a pleased smile, like he had anticipated this outcome. It was quite an unnerving expression.

"Then thank you for your time, Mr Weatherby," the stoic man intoned, walking out regally, accompanied by what was doubtless an official from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures on Level Four. Percy glowered at the jibe the werewolf made at him. Weatherby. He hadn't been called that for twenty years.

It was a moniker from back when Crouch hadn't bothered to learn his name. Despite all the work he had done for him that year as his assistant. Percy certainly hadn't shed a tear when the man disappeared. It allowed his transfer it Umbridge's office, and they'd both climbed the ranks since then. She to Minister for Magic, and he from junior assistant, to her job as Undersecretary. He didn't think anyone even knew about that name-thing anymore.

Percy watched as the man walked from the room, and he was left alone with the head of the Beast Division, who had come along with the other man.

"Tepes," Percy prompted the man. "You ever heard of it?"

"Hmm. Tepes huh. Hmm... It sounds vaguely familiar. Is it important? I can find out."

"No, I'm sure it's nothing," Percy replied, waving the man off, satisfied with how things had ended up no matter how it had gone about happening. The day Umbridge welcomed werewolves into her office was the day Percy ate his own shoes, and went to join his father in the Misuse of Magical Artefacts office.

"Thank you for your assistance, please ask my assistant to come back in."

"No problem, happy to be of service, Mr Weasley," the man said heading for the door. "And its vampires."

"What's that!" Percy asked, calling after the man, heading through the door.

"Huh? Oh, its vampires. House Tepes, I just remembered. It's a vampire house. Real bigwigs, going back as long as anyone can remember. They keep the rest of the covens from acting out too much. Saves us quite a bit of paperwork. The bloodsuckers have their own queen and everything, can you believe that? Anyway, let us know if you need further assistance, Sir."

The man walked off leaving a stunned red-haired wizard behind.

* * *

><p>Beep-dah...Beep-dah...Beep-dah<p>

Sir Wolf patiently waited for the answer on his cell phone as he stoically stood in the Ministry atrium staring up at the various levels making up the Ministry. Large banners of the Minister, an aging woman in a fur hat and pink coat smiled sweetly down at him.

"Hello, Sir Wolf," a soft melodious voice greeted from the device pressed to his ear. The man straightened at the sound of the voice, even as the rational part of his brain marvelled at the technology of the device in his hand that allowed communication even underground, far beneath the London Streets.

"Your Highness."

"I gather from the slight surliness I'm detecting in your voice, that the wizards were as rude as expected."

"Indeed. I was barred access to Minister Umbridge by the Undersecretary. A member from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, was kind enough to offer me escort to the atrium, or if inclined, to the Werewolf Registry."

"I see. So they stopped you from keeping your appointment due to being a werewolf. How unfortunate," the voice on the line said, amused.

"Unfortunate for some," Wolf replied, turning around.

The great 'Fountain of Magical Brethren' fell within his sight. Golden statues of house-elves, centaurs and goblins stared up at the elevated witch and wizard in adoration. The wizarding world's idea of harmony. Wolf's lip curled, and he glanced past the fountain at the crowded floo and portkey arrivals area. His sharp vision caught sight of a woman in robes fussing over her belongings. Further up a giant man leant against a floo entry reading a paper. Wolf tilted the phone closer to his mouth.

"I have a team in position. Should I have the Minister brought before you?"

The woman fussing through her bag, looked up straight at Wolf, watching his reaction. Elsewhere spread through the monolithic structure, a dozen other covert glances were spared.

"No," came the slow reply. "The wizards have had time enough. Return to my side, Wolf."

"Yes, my prince," the man said hanging up the phone, and slipping it into his jacket pocket. His task here was done. What happened next would change the world.

* * *

><p><em>Some Hours Later<em>

The man waddled forward, careful to balance the hot saucer of tea, as he moved to sit down next to his wife on the couch.

"Your darling daughter sends her love," the woman remarked, not looking up from a letter clutched in her hands. "She says Sofia and Hugo are fighting like cats and dogs!"

"Those are your grandchildren too, my dear," he shot back with a fond smile. "I'm hardly going to take all the blame. I contest that it's 25% your fault." The woman laughed in reply.

"She asks, when are you going to retire?" The woman continued, smiling in a way only a teasing spouse can.

"I'll retire when children suddenly learn to floss correctly, or excluding that, one week after you do the same."

"Pfft. I'm not retiring," the ageing woman snorted. "You can pry my drill, from my cold dead fingers."

"Probably," the man chuckled, switching on the TV. Sighing he settled down to watch the idiot-box for a little while before bed. Getting old sucked. The older you were, the easier it was to go to bed, and the harder it was to get out.

"Hey, what's wrong with the TV," his wife exclaimed.

"Hmm?" He queried coming out of his daydream. The man looked at the screen. Instead of a lousy late-night chat show pontificating on the delays at letting people purchase housing on The Bund, an artificial island recently completed offshore, a strange symbol was displayed on the screen. He thumbed the remote flicking through channels. Wherever he went, the same symbol appeared, if not already there, within a few seconds of watching.

"It's on every channel," he breathed.

"That's not possible," his wife muttered, standing up reaching for the phone.

"Who are you calling?"

"Our darling daughter."

_Sydney, Australia_

A young man mindlessly clicked his way through a game of online poker on the left half of his dual-monitor computer system. The other screen was buffering a video file off a social network site. Glancing over at the progress and seeing that the clip was ready, he clicked play, stifling a yawn.

The youth's brow frowned when instead of playing, the video redirected to another page.

"What the hell?" he muttered as a strange symbol popped up on his screen.

_New York City, United States of America_

"And, smile!" a woman shouted across the noise of Times Square, at two deeply unenthusiastic looking teenagers, hunched together with their father, their backdrop, the most famous collection of billboards in the world.

"Oh, come on guys, we're in New York! Can I get a better smile than that?" the woman pleaded in exasperation.

"Hey, check it out!" the boy cried pointing at a billboard that had just swapped images from a perfume advertisement to a symbol. As if by a sign, one after another the billboards began to flick over.

"Now 'that' is cool," the teenage girl remarked.

_Amman, Jordan_

Thwap, thwap, thwap. A young man dribbles a basketball towards the outside court's hoop. Leaping into the air, he lands the ball through the net. He pumps a fist in the air at his success, and jogs after the ball. It rolled to a stop near his battery powered radio. Bending to retrieve the ball, he noticed that the local radio channel had stopped playing.

He fiddled with the knobs to find another station, but was surprised to find only silence. But then a voice broke it.

_Tokyo, Japan._

A dark mane of hair, hiding dark blue, almost black eyes, stared blindly at the TV. The teenage boy the eyes belonged too, was too tired to bother getting up to switch it off the device, and equally tired that he didn't notice when the show had paused, being replaced by a static image and quiet. Trapped in his own thoughts, memories and pseudo-memories, it was a voice, high and cold cutting through the silence, that struck him from his reflecting.

"Within every important issue, there are always aspects no one wishes to discuss."

The teenager focused back on the TV. A young boy, clad in a dark blue suit, sat comfortably upon an ebony throne. He couldn't have been more than eleven years old, but there was no mistaking this boy for a child. Something lurked behind the confident smile and the sure tones. Something in the eyes, a vibrant emerald green, that almost shone against the raven hair and midnight throne. Something inhuman.

"There are, in every age, new errors to be rectified and new prejudices to be opposed. We find ourselves, Earth's kin, embroiled in a secret war, a war that has long been kept hidden. An immortal battle of Light and Dark. Of Humans. And Vampires. I announce to the world, the end of this great separation. No longer will my race skulk in the night. No longer will we be servile to the whims of the folly.

We have long kept our peace, and our silence, our bloodlines, tied to darkness. For centuries we have hidden, in the dark of night and in the shadows of human history. However the burning dawn is upon us, and we found ourselves no longer in fear of the light. I, Harry Tepes, Prince of Vampires, extend an open invitation to the leaders of the world. A chance to be a part of a bright future for all of Terra's children. Embrace the tide. Or be swept away."

The teenager fell to the ground, clutching his head as if in great pain.

* * *

><p><em>Tepes<em>_ Regional Palace, Location Unknown_

Emerald eyes stared into the blinking red dot, a live feed of the transmission displayed on an adjacent camera. The boy gave a smile, clearly displaying his fangs.

"Until next we meet."

The blinking red dot stopped blinking, and fell dark.

"Make of that what you will."

**END CHAPTER**

* * *

><p>Author Notes: Thanks to everyone who's added this to favourites, subscribed and reviewed this story. I hope you continue to read and enjoy things. That said, a little housekeeping.<p>

Some quotes utilised;

"Our bloodlines are tied to the darkness. For centuries we have hidden, in the dark of night and in the shadows of human history. That is, until today anyway" is a direct quote from the Anime from Nina Tepes, transferred from princess to prince, and paraphrased slightly.

"Within every important issue, there are always aspects no one wishes to discuss." is a line by George Orwell (I think), and...

"There are, in every age, new errors to be rectified and new prejudices to be opposed" was Samuel Johnson.

That's my piece. As always, review, favourite and subscribe.

Constructive feedback and criticism always appreciated.

Thanks for reading. Please review.

Edit: November 6th 2012 - Minor edits.


	3. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer:_

_Dance in the Vampire Bund and Harry Potter are the property of their respective trademark holders. No money is made by the author for this work of fiction._

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 02<strong>

_London, 10.17am_

"…However the burning dawn is upon us, and we found ourselves no longer in fear of the light. I, Harry Tepes, Prince of Vampires, extend an open invitation to the leaders of the world. A chance to be a part of a bright future for all Terra's children. Embrace the tide. Or be swept away."

The image on the television shifted away, going from the throned dark-haired boy to an attractive female newscaster seated at a desk. The woman ruffled her papers as she began speaking.

"And that was another repeat of last night's phantom broadcast, still with no word from the government as to an origin for the transmission. Just to recap, what's known so far is that at nine pm London time, the tape was broadcast simultaneously around the world. Uh… we've been overloaded with viewer messages about what they were doing at the time, but just to select a few, there has been reports of Internet browsing being redirected. Reports of electronic billboards playing the tape. Uh, radio programs having their signal overridden. Even one report of a film in a movie theatre playing the video mid-film. There really are just so many stories to mention.

As of yet the government have yet to make a statement about this tape that overrode a significant chunk of the world's multi-media communications, literally hundreds of broadcasts, television, radio and Internet sources. Again still no word from the Government, either the prime minister's office, or any of the ministries. Although, one former defence insider has labelled this _Tepes Tape_ as 'an unprecedented act', 'the worst incident of cyber-terrorism ever conducted', and presenting a 'genuine threat to safety of both individuals and countries.'"

A bushy-haired woman in her apparent mid-twenties bit her lip, her eyes glued to the screen, clothed still in a dressing gown, despite the morning having edged its way into the day proper.

"…allusion of vampires in the broadcast has been met with mixed response. Quite a few viewers have written into us to say that they believe the self-proclaimed prince, Harry Tepes, that vampires are real. However opinions of the authenticity of vampires aside, there has been an overwhelming response to the use of a child in this viral tape. Uh… a high ranking member of the families first party calling this 'child abuse'. Again we should stress that…"

Ba-ring! Ba-ring! Ba-ring!

The woman jumped aright as the telephone rang, having been totally absorbed by the report. Muting the sound on the TV, she moved to the receiver, wand clutched tightly in one hand.

"Hello? …Oh! Mum! Yes we're fine. Yes, I've been watching. No nothing to do with us. Are you and Dad okay? … … Just stay home, it's a madhouse out there. I'm keeping Sofia and Hugo home today. …Victor's flooed home to Bulgaria to check on his family there. …Okay. Yes. …Okay. Yes, I'll call you later. I love you. …Bye."

She hung up the phone.

"Was that grandma, Mummy?"

The woman turned. A young boy, half hidden behind a banister, only the crown of his brown-hair covered head visible, was peeking at her. She sighed. Hugo took after his father well and truly with his short and decidedly non-bushy set of locks.

"Yes, darling, that was grandma. She was just checking up on us. Um… why don't you go play for a while."

"But there's nothing on TV! Only the news about the vampires. Why is that mummy? Did the vampires do something bad?" The boy had a wide-eyed look on his face.

She sighed wondering how to explain this question to the nine year old. After all she would know better than anyone having herself once been an employee for the Ministry of Magic in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. She knew all about Vampires, just as she knew about the Tepes family. It was a line of vampires descending from Vlad the Impaler that had gained considerable wealth and power in recent centuries.

The Tepes family from what she had read, now consisted of over a hundred members, and was attributed as the second largest clan in Europe, according to ministry sources. Before she had left the Ministry, fed up with the archaic attitudes to both creatures and prejudices toward muggleborns, an attitude which had festered further under current Minister for Magic Dolores Umbridge, she could recall missives from the Tepes clan.

For over a century they had sent emissaries detailing their dissatisfaction over the restrictions and less than egalitarian attitude of the wizards. Rather than improving in time though, attitudes had worsened of late, with vampires being downgraded from 'Being' to 'Beast' status.

The vampires had been incensed, but were summarily ignored. Resentment was at an all time high, but enough to warrant revealing themselves to the Muggle world? Surely not. There was no precedent.

"No, darling," the woman said, lying distractedly. "Why don't you go help Sofia read her school books. The Hogwarts opening semester is just months away, and then you won't see her until the break."

"Awww," the boy complained. "I wanna go to Hogwarts."

"It's 'want to' not 'wanna', and you will be starting first year yourself in no time at all." The woman looked away from the boy to focus back on the TV. The tape was being played again.

"Now go help your sister memorise Hogwarts a History. Mummy is trying to solve something."

The young child huffed, stalking off, knowing full well that when his mother was absorbing in a puzzle, little could be done to distract her from it.

In her seat the woman leaned forward fixed upon on the boy's face. Something about him was strangely familiar.

"…the light. I Harry Tepes, Prince of Vampires, extend an open invitation to the leaders of the world. A chance to be a part of a bright future for all Terra's children. Embrace the tide. Or be swept away."

The boy on the screen smiled a toothy grin, but it was not light glinting off fangs that drew her attention. There, peaking underneath the boy's fringe was…

Something.

"It can't be" she muttered to herself, frowning.

* * *

><p><em>10 Downing Street, London<em>

_Later that evening_

"…No. You will not give a statement. For the hundredth time today. No!"

A young woman with blonde hair tentatively stood outside the door to the Prime Minister's office, flinching as the sound of telephone was slammed down in its cradle. Steeling herself that this was her chance, she quickly knocked and ducked her head in the door. She saw the man standing beside his desk.

At forty-nine, David Wilde was often accredited with looking years younger than his actual age. Standing a lofty 6'1, his blue eyes and medium build, a remnant of his years rowing for the Cambridge University rowing team, often made him the apple of many a lady's eye. In fact, it was a common joke among the press and those of cynical inclination, that he had wooed his way into the top job.

There was certainly no shortage of 'scandals' for the 'playboy-PM' in the gossip rags. Though these he would causally dismiss with a patented laugh and handsome smile. The latest claim that he had spied on the opposition was proving a little harder to shrug off, but the papers certainly never claimed him to be unattractive. Today though, far from looking handsome, he looked positively geriatric.

"Prime Minister. Just to remind you that Sir Toby wishes to-"

"Get out!"

The woman recoiled as the man advanced on the door to his office.

"Five minutes! No interruptions. For the love of all that is holy."

The door was slammed shut on the woman. Inside the door, the man sighed, rubbing his eyes as he retreated to his desk. He'd have to apologise to the girl after, naturally, lest another article appear in those two-bit trash piles that apparently counted for journalism in the country. Collapsing into his leather backed office chair, the man sighed. If he had had longer days, they didn't spring to mind.

Like many in the country, the man had his night interrupted by what the press were calling the 'Tepes Tape'. But unlike most people, he hadn't been afforded the luxury of the option of being able to go grab a few hours sleep whilst events unfolding. No, he had been awake all night since the broadcast at nine pm last night. The politician glanced at his watch. It was now nearly three pm. He'd been awake since five-thirty the previous morning. He was too tired to work out how many hours he'd been awake now, but it had definitely been quite a few. Now if only that blasted woman would show up he could get around to making a statement, and then finding some much needed rest.

The man's aides were constantly hassling him to put out a statement to the press on the event. They couldn't understand why he was stalling. The man couldn't exactly go about explaining that he had to wait for his magical counterpart to get back to him, and work out what the hell was going on, before he could get on with his side of the job. It was a nightmare.

In one part of his mind, he was dealing with the information that this was a 'terrorist' act. His computer experts had no idea how someone could just hack in and take over hundreds of different websites, television broadcasts and satellite transmissions. It shouldn't be possible they had told him, tearing their hair out to understand how it had been done. The only thing they could agree on was that it would had to have been a coordinated effort of dozens, probably hundreds of people to get out a simultaneous broadcast globally, and that if they could do this so easily, what's to stop them from taking over much more sensitive systems.

That was one part of his building headache. The other part was that vampires really were real. Vampires, witches, giants, even dragons for heaven's sake. He'd like to see his chief of staff swallow that bundle. No, he'd be laughed out of the building if he revealed that little tidbit. So he couldn't say anything, but at the same time, his hands were currently tied to act. He looked up to the portrait on the wall opposite his desk.

"Can you please remind her _again_, that it is critical we speak."

The static image of a Victorian nobleman shifted. Literally shifted. One arm coming up to scratch the back of his neck.

"Not sure what help it would be," the portrait man said. "But right-io." The oil figure wandered out of frame, disappearing.

The prime minister sighed loudly. He had spoken to his predecessors about the woman. Apparently the couple before her were right windbags as well, but they had to admit, Umbridge really took the cake where their sort were concerned. He had sent a message through the portrait immediately after seeing the clip, and had subsequently sent countless urgent requests to meet, and the woman still hadn't gotten back to him. If the woman had worked for him, he would have stuffed that pink handbag of hers right up her…

"Hem, Hem," a voice said clearing their throat. His head shot up. A primly dressed woman, stood stiffly before his fire place, a pink clasp clutched between pink nailed fingers. In fact everything about the woman was a shade of pink. She looked like a stuck-up flamingo.

"About time!" he started, standing up. "I've been sending messages all day. You do know what 'urgent' means don't you." The woman turned her nose up at the man.

"Well I think you will find, Muggle, that the Minister for Magic can't go jumping at any request at the jump of a hat. One does have work to do after all."

The man scowled. This woman was plain insufferable. He had only had to deal with her on two previous occasions, neither case being a particularly heart-warming encounter. Their introduction had been on his first day in office. The witch had magicked his chair to prevent him from slouching. He had had the chair dismantled and burnt, historical importance be damned.

The second time was when she told him the ministry would be no longer providing a protective auror detail for the Prime Minister's residences. He hadn't known there was one in the first place, so no great loss to his mind. But this vampire thing-y was an issue of mutual concern. They'd have to deal with this.

"Yes, work," he stated, fighting down an urge to strangle the insufferably smug look off the woman's face.

"Please tell me you have a solution for the current situation," he asked with a tired smile.

"And what situation is that?" The woman wore an expression of bemusement. One surely comparable to that which parent's wore when subjected to watching their spawn act out their favourite new game. The prime minister's smile faded.

"Please tell me," he said, tiring rapidly, "That you are joking."

Umbridge frowned.

"I do not make it a habit to jest, Muggle."

The man gave a strangled gasp.

"Do you mean to tell me you don't know what the vampires have done?" The man's voice took on a high, credulous air. "Are you kidding me! It's on every bloody channel!"

"Vampires?" the woman said looking confused. "What do those creatures have to do with anything?"

The Prime Minister stared at her for long moments, until collecting himself, he snatched up the remote on his desk, and turned the television on. Flicking around a couple channels, it only took him scant seconds to find a repeat of the 'Tepes Tape.' He watched the woman with a fixed expression as she watched the short clip. At the end the woman just snorted.

"I fail to see what you are concerned about. So one nobody vampire revealed itself on your tel-e-visy. I'll send the aurors to deal with this beast," the woman intoned, visibly unconcerned that she referred to a boy as a beast. "And we'll just obliviate anyone who's seen this. Though I don't see why you'd even feel the need to bother the wizarding world at all. Surely you Muggles are more than capable of dealing with the few people who might have seen-"

"Are you mad!" the Prime Minister gushed out. "The whole world has seen this!"

Umbridge's cheeks coloured.

"I think you'll find that's a tiny bit of an exaggeration," she said, correcting the man with a sickly smile. "After all Muggles can't possibly spread information so widely without magical assistance. The Ministry will handle this, just as we always have," she said with airs.

The man just stared at her flatly, before turning, he slowly walked round his desk, collapsing into his seat, loosening his tie. This was just unbelievable. What planet did this woman live on the man thought, ignoring her comment that he should sit up straight. If this _impossible_ woman was the best wizards had, there would be no way to contain this. Vampires were revealing themselves on TV and there was nothing to be done.

"I'm going home," the man muttered aloud, standing up to collect his coat.

"…Nothing to worry about. We'll bring the troublesome beasts to heel, you'll see," the woman said, still continuing to speak headless of his actions.

She was welcome to her delusions. He headed to the door.

"Good luck with that, Minister," he said, leaving the prim woman behind in his office. He sighed loudly after the door shut, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Give me a bloody vampire to her any day. At least they know what the Internet is."

With that last thought, the man headed through the office façade to the residence. He couldn't count on the wizards to help out as long as that woman was running things. He'd have to do it himself. For now though, he was going to get some sleep, and quite likely a stiff drink.

* * *

><p><em>Washington D.C.<em>

_The same time_

A black SVU, rear windows tinted to the extreme, swept a steady path through the city interior, making an unhurried path towards an ugly looking multi-rise building. In the back seat, a dark haired man of about thirty-years sat, eyes skimming over a dossier. Light occasionally reflecting off of a silver ring on the middle finger on his right hand, the item twisted absent-mindedly as he read.

A phone buzzed inside an expensive suit pocket. His hand slipped in to retrieve it, tapping the screen to accept the call.

"Yes?"

"Please hold for the Marquis Vereux," a slightly metallic sounding woman said. The man's brow rose slightly, but he didn't pause from his reading. He waited for the line to inevitably beep.

"My lord Marquis?"

"You are ordered to proceed," a gruff man's voice said over the line. It was almost a nail on chalkboard kind of raspiness to the voice. The listener however, did not appear affected by this.

"Yes, my Lord."

The line went dead and the man hung up, slipping the phone back into the inside pocket. He closed the file, tossing it onto the seat beside him. He glanced at his watch. Seventeen hours remaining. Best to get a move on. Nodding at the driver in the front seat, the vehicle changed lanes, moving toward the utilitarian looking building.

The car pulled up a short walk away, a second SVU parking just behind it. Ignoring looks from Capitol Police and members of miscellaneous three letter agencies stationed at the site, the man stepped out making a confident path toward the entrance, quickly flanked by four bodyguards from the Vehicles.

Unnerved police officers and men in suits quickly moved to intercept.

"Excuse me, sir, could you tell me where you are headed?" A thin looking uniformed man asked, awkwardly. The paused his progress, looking not to the man who stopped him first, but to a nearby plaque. 'The British Embassy to the United States of America. 3100 Massachusetts Avenue N.W.' The man looked back to the officer.

He smiled, surprising the officer by taking his hand and shaking it in an unnaturally tight grip. The officer staring first at the man's mouth, and then at the ring, recognising the symbol embossing upon the surface, and back to the man's mouth. Eyes grew wide with horror.

"Count Ferren," the man introduced, light glinting off fangs as he smiled widely. "I'm here representing the noble house of Tepes. No doubt the ambassador is dying to see me."

* * *

><p><em>New York, New York<em>

_The same time_

Heads craned this way and that and that as the motorcade roared its way toward the United Nation headquarters. A valiant few onlookers made the attempt to count the endless stream of cars, but invariably gave up once they reached thirty, only to find more and more kept coming.

Causing chaos, the army of SVU's dis-engorged their passengers at the diplomatic compound. Dozens of teams of three or four people breaking off in different directions, their destination the offices of various member states. Hair and eye colour, sex and build all varied. They were all different, all except for the flash of Tepes signet rings on the leader of each group, and the toothy grins.

In similar scenes, all around the world dark cars with tinted windows were pulling up outside government quarters. In Canberra, Australia, a group of four men stepped toward an Australian Federal Police Officer outside The Lodge. In Ontario, Canada a vehicle pulled up outside 24 Sussex Drive. As were the case at Sager House, 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue and the renovated Palais Schaumburg.

And in London, one tired Prime Minister would be awoken by a knock at his door.

* * *

><p><em>Tepes Regional Palace, Location Unknown<em>

_Four hours later_

A soft glow from a tiny computer screen lit up a pale face. Green eyes, alert despite the late hour at his location, scanned the page. With a few taps to the screen, and a quick type upon keys especially crafted to fit his slender hands, he leaned back from the device set into the table surface.

The boy scanned the length of the long, ebony dining room table that stretched almost twenty feet. He was dwarfed by the massive dimensions of the desk. But that was fitting since the desk was in turn dwarfed by the dimensions of the room. A room that whilst only partially lit from the screen he was tapping at, easily accepted the furnishing.

The boy rested an arm on the edge of his chair, an ugly high backed thing that made him positively diminutive by comparison. Clucking his tongue against a fang, he stood waiting in silence. He didn't have to wait long. A fixture in the ceiling activated splaying red light in a concentrated beam downward. The light began to alter and widen, and in the space of a second or two, it formed itself into a representation of a seated figure.

The person was of feminine build, but little else could be easily gauged. A red cloak wrapped around the figure loosely, concealing most of the woman's clothing, though not hiding the curving form of her bosom. Black eyes watched him fixedly from behind a golden mask that hid the rest of her features.

"Your Highness," the woman said, fangs visible for the instant before she bowed in her chair. The boy nodded wordlessly in return, raven black hair parting slightly to show the hint of a lightning shaped scar. The next minute was spent in silence as additional beams of light appearing in the ceiling, to produce more seated, more masked figures, until eight were in attendance. The cloaked figures were evenly spaced with four on each side of the table, the raven-haired boy at the head of the table, the other end empty.

Technology really made this so much more pleasant. Infinitesimally more useful than regular conference calling, or face to face greetings. Although the hologram technology been around for twenty plus years now, it still hadn't really caught on by in large, in the general population's imagination. Or any population really. It was far too expensive and impractical for anybody except the most richly funded and sophisticated laboratories. Or playboy billionaires with too much money and time on their hands for that matter. But then let it not be said that the Tepes clan ever lacked for anything.

"So, How did it go?" the boy began dryly. A couple of the figured snorted humorously, and most hid smiles at the boy's casual referral to turning the world's political zeitgeist on its head. Of the two that did not bat an eye at his comment, the one closest to him on the left side of the table spoke.

"As expected, Prince Tepes," the masked man said quietly, amber eyes watching the boy in a hawk-like fashion.

"The Marquis' under my purview have all reported in." All eyes focused on the amber eyed speaker.

"Europe, is swiftly falling into play, with but one exception."

Green eyes frowned but said nothing, he glanced along the length of the table to the other figures. He picked out the woman who had been first to arrive.

"And how are the governments of Asia reacting to our envoys, Duke Xi?"

The woman spoke.

"Of the nineteen Marquis' under my supervision, preliminary reports would indicate diplomatic ties will be established between all selected nation states and House Tepes. My Marquis' were careful to approach political candidates favourable to our objectives. I would recommend to the council, for the commencement stage to begin in Japan."

The boy raised a brow, and a there were a couple murmurs among the members, but noticeably not from the amber-eyed man who spoke for Europe.

"And what of your fellow Dukes, Lady Xi. Do any care to make their own claim for stage two?" The remaining members remained silent.

"I see," the boy murmured. He glanced at the vampire with the amber eyes once more.

"And you, my Lord Malbane. What is this one exception you speak of?"

"England," the amber eyed man said hollowly.

"England?" the green-eyed boy echoed back faintly, placing more weight on the arm he learnt on across the chair.

"Yes. Marquis Dermailles reports the team sent to treat with the British Prime Minister have been taken by aurors for the British Minister for Magic," the amber-eyed man said in cold tones. The prince lifted a brow.

"And what does Marquis Dermailles expect to do about this?" the boy asked, glancing at his nails.

"Nothing."

"I see," the boy repeated slowly in a different tone from previous. The woman, Lady Xi cleared her throat.

"Perhaps Highness, the Marquis hopes to rely on established procedure to take action for him, rather than to take action himself. If this is so, and he is too fearful of censure to be of use, he should be executed for his incompetence." The woman spoke with cold certainty in her voice, as untroubled as ones voice would be commenting upon the evening rain. It was not the boy who spoke in reply though but the amber-eyed man.

"I would remind Lady Xi, that the administration of Marquis' remain the sole discretion of their respective Duke, in this case myself, and not the council at large." The man's voice remained level, but there was a definite edge to his words. The woman though, proved unintimidated.

"Be that as it may, Lord Malbane, the action or inaction of a single Marquis, is sufficient to threaten the objectives of House Tepes. Misdeeds that threaten the collective suc-"

The woman fell silent as the green-eyed boy raised a finger.

"Although I appreciate your enthusiasm, Lady Xi, Lord Malbane is correct. Marquis Dermailles needn't be made to answer unless Lord Malbane sees it fit. For now, I see no cause to intercede." The green eyed boy shifted his weight off of his arm and stepped around his chair to sit down in the high banked seat. Feet scrapped air several inches above the floor, his body much too short to fill the seat fully.

"That said," the boy continued. "I feel it is best to initiate the next phase of our plan not in Japan, where Lady Xi would suggest we would have a high margin of success…" the female vampire frowned as the prince spoke.

"…but at the Bund in England." There were some startled murmurs from the members, but the prince carried on speaking heedless and they quickly silenced.

"If we face opposition, House Tepes will face it head on…" the prince glanced at the figures around the table.

"…and destroy it."

Green eyes focused in on Duke Malbane.

"Excellency. I expect a swift resolution with the wizards. Know that I am watching, and will step in as needed." The boy gave the amber-eyed man a piercing glare, before focusing in on the remaining dukes.

"Dismissed."

The eight images quickly vanished leaving the youth in darkness, lit once again by only the small screen embedded in the table surface. The boy leaned forward across the ebony surface, steeping his fingers to rest his head on his hands.

"England, huh," the boy murmured to himself in the silence. He tilted his head in his hands, pupils contracting sharply into slits as he looked at a shadowy corner of the room.

"Prepare the jet," the boy directed at the shadows. The figure of Sir Wolf entered the circle of light, the man's feet making not a sound as he stepped away from the darkness around the walls. The man bowed deeply, before moving off in equal silence.

The boy tilted his head back in his hands, irises taking on the 'normal' form once more. The raven-haired boy frowned thoughtfully.

"I guess it's time for Harry Potter to return home."

**END CHAPTER**

* * *

><p>AN: Thanks for reading.<p>

I rushed though the writing of this one so the chapter ended up being shorter than I hoped, yet longer than expected. I don't know what that means. :)

A big thanks to everybody who's reviewed, added this to favourites, subscribed and/or expressed an interest/commented on the story. Please keep it up. I did get a couple questions as to what essentially boiled down to being: 'Do I need to know the anime to read this fic?' The answer is no.

Although I use the premise from the show of a secret vampire monarchy revealing themselves to the world, and using various machinations to make their place in it, this fic is quite divergent from the anime, and only really uses that central theme rather than a structured retelling of the story. If you had seen the anime you'd obviously pick up on more of the story nuances, work out which parts I've invented personally and perhaps guess where I might take a couple things. But then if you know nothing about the anime don't fret. There are so many original elements here that I think you can safely enjoy the story just fine.

That said, the wikipedia page will fill in some holes if you can't wait for me to get around to laying down the cards. A couple googles will probably find you some episode summaries too. But again, you don't need any background knowledge to enjoy the story.

Until next time.

Enjoy. Review. Favourite. Subscribe.

Constructive Feedback and any comments always appreciated.

Edit: November 6th 2012 - Minor edits.


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